


motivating forces

by renecdote



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e03 The Searchers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I have a lot of feelings about buck babysitting chris okay, Napping, Nightmares, Post-Tsunami, this is the result of some of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:48:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: Eddie watches it happen in slow motion; watches Buck go tense, watches him wrap himself more tightly around Christopher, watches him struggle, caught like a fish in a net, in that blurry place between dreaming and awake. And it really is only one second, but it feels like an eon because for that second, Buck doesn’t just look startled, he looks terrified.Coda for 3x03. Eddie arrives at Buck's apartment to pick Christopher up and interrupts a nap.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 266





	motivating forces

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt ("I'm not going to hurt you.")
> 
> Set immediately post 3x03. I am assuming that there is a day between the tsunami and the scene at the end, with Eddie dropping Christopher off at Buck’s place, because it didn’t seem like enough time for it to be the following morning.
> 
> Title from a quote by John Lennon (which is super long but I really only took from the first line of it): _There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life._

It’s one second

Only one second.

Eddie drops his phone trying to take a picture of Buck and Christopher curled up on the couch together—deeply asleep, one or both of them drooling a little—and the noise startles Buck awake. Eddie watches it happen in slow motion; watches Buck go tense, watches him wrap himself more tightly around Christopher, watches him struggle, caught like a fish in a net, in that blurry place between dreaming and awake. And it really is only one second, but it feels like an eon because for that second, Buck doesn’t just look startled, he looks terrified.

“Sorry,” Eddie is already apologising. “Sorry, it’s okay, it’s just me, I’m—”

_I’m not going to hurt you._

_I’m not going to hurt Christopher._

The words sit like poisonous lumps at the back of Eddie’s throat. It’s ridiculous. He knows what Buck’s nightmares are about. They don’t talk about them, not really, but he _knows_. Bombs and thirty thousand pounds of crushing metal and—now, probably—a tsunami. And he knows that when Buck thinks about that wave, he doesn’t think about almost drowning, or being swept out to sea, or saving Christopher; he thinks about _losing_ him.

So Eddie doesn’t take it personally, the way that Buck hugs Christopher closer, the desperate terror that flashes across his face as he tries to protect Christopher from everything, even if it’s his own father. 

But it still hurts. 

How could it not hurt?

Eddie swallows. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, because it’s easier than all the other things he’s thinking. “I knocked, but there was no answer, so I just let myself in.”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes. He goes boneless, brain catching up with where and when and who. His breath hitches, a shudder running through him, but as quickly as Eddie thinks it might be a sob, it’s gone. Buck blinks and smiles up at him and the hurt in Eddie’s chest is numbed. Buck was never afraid of him taking Christopher. He knows that. Eddie just startled him.

“Christopher wear you out?” he teases.

Buck runs a hand up and down Christopher’s spine. He’s stirring now, too, turning his face further into Buck’s chest, grumbling sleepily. There is a look of such naked wonder on Buck’s face when he looks down at that curly mop of hair that Eddie’s chest aches for entirely different reasons. 

“We were watching a movie,” Buck says. And then he’s ducking his head down, murmuring to Chris, “Hey, buddy, your dad is here.”

Eddie glances at the dark TV screen and the remote on the coffee table, out of reach from the couch, especially with a kid asleep on you. (He knows. He’s been in that position dozens of times.) He knows Maddie dropped Buck home after he was released from the hospital yesterday, knows she hung around until Buck kicked her out, saying he was tired, he just wanted to sleep. And he also knows, from the red-rimmed eyes and dark circles, that Buck probably didn’t get much sleep last night, if he even tried to go to bed.

Hell, Eddie barely slept himself. Christopher was so exhausted he slept like a rock the first night, didn’t even stir when Eddie carried him from the car to his bed, but last night was full of broken screams.

It makes Eddie feel bad all over again for waking them up.

“Dad?”

Christopher’s voice is magnetic; it pulls him closer, pulls him in until he’s sitting on the edge of the couch, pulling his son into a hug. Buck just lies there and watches them, that same look of wonder on his face, like he can’t quite believe that this moment is real.

He looked like that this morning, too, when Eddie knocked on the door and blew right past him with Christopher in tow.

He looked like that when Eddie said there was no one he trusted more with his son, even—maybe especially—after everything that happened.

Eddie hates that look, just a little bit. 

He smiles at Buck over Christopher’s shoulder. Carla offered to stay with Christopher today—even offered to do it free of charge, after she heard about the tsunami—but Eddie is sure that dropping him off with Buck was the right choice. For both of them.

When Christopher starts to pull back, Eddie lets him, hand slipping down to steady him there, sitting half on Buck’s legs and half on Eddie’s lap. 

“Did you keep Buck out of trouble today?” he asks.

Christopher nods, smile sweet and dimpled. He recounts the cartoons they watched and the pizza they had for lunch and the LEGO farm Buck helped him build. He doesn’t mention drawing, although Eddie can see the paper and markers stacked messily on the corner of the coffee table, sheets spattered with gradients of blue. When he glances at Buck, he finds Buck’s gaze on the drawings too, but it slides quickly away as soon as he feels Eddie looking.

They talked about the tsunami, Eddie realises, and he wants, suddenly, desperately, to know what exactly was said. But he doesn’t push. It doesn’t feel right; not now, with Christopher warm and happy in his arms, and Buck looking soft and sleep-rumpled and still more than a little broken. The scrapes on his face are only the most visible of the damage, Eddie knows, and Christopher came out of the whole ordeal with more than just a few bumps and bruises himself. So Eddie doesn’t ask. Not yet. What he says is:

“I don’t have to work early tomorrow, so I thought we could stay for dinner, maybe watch a movie.”

And while Christopher shouts with glee, Buck—Buck looks downright relieved. Eddie knows he can’t get rid of the nightmares—Buck’s or Christopher’s or even his own—but right here, right now, he can delay them for a little while. He can let Buck hold onto Christopher, let Christopher hold onto Buck, and he’ll do his best to hold them both together.

Then tomorrow he’ll drop Christopher off and do it all again. For as long as it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are love 💛 You can also find me on tumblr [here](https://renecdote.tumblr.com/)


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